Slytherin Pride
by Anawiel Blackthorn
Summary: Seven tales of life in Slytherin house - told by past and present pupils. From falling in love to falling down the stairs... R&R!
1. First Year Tom Riddle

A/N – This will eventually be a seven part series, each chapter told by one member of the Slytherin house (past and present). It is basically a short tale of a memory they have which is being recounted for you: the lovely readers! Am doing this simply because I love Slytherin house and I think it's important that they get fanfics that show them as 'normal people'. All feedback is appreciated! You know where to click!!!  
  
Anawiel –x-  
  
FIRST YEAR: TOM RIDDLE  
  
"Tom, do you know why I've called you here?"  
  
Professor Dippet smiled at me, his tired yet kind eyes shone knowingly at he studied my face.  
  
"No, sir," I murmured.  
  
Everything was so new and strange to me. Wizards, magic, spells and wands - all had only ever existed in the realm of fairytale to me. All of it... shock after shock greeting me at each corner!  
  
I surveyed the headmaster's office. It was huge and round, painted in the same blue as the sky had been when I'd awoken that morning and everywhere strange, magical things.  
  
Each framed picture portrayed an elderly witch or wizard - their names engraved on silver plaques beneath them. And they were moving! Some were snoozing against their frames, occasionally twitching or muttering as their chest rose and fell with each breath. Others were watching me and waved as my wide eyes moved over them. Most of the portraits, however, were talking quietly amongst themselves - I even spotted two who were playing chess! One had to constantly lean out of his picture, nearly always managing to knock his red top hat off his head, and was becoming increasingly frustrated.  
  
"Tom," Dippet's voice snapped me out of my thoughts and I swivelled in my chair to see him properly. "Tom, the house you have been placed in -"  
  
"Slytherin, right?" I asked, wondering where this was going.  
  
"Yes, Slytherin," he continued, "I must warn you now it will be a challenge for you. There are students in that house who will not want you there simply because you are, technically, a Muggleborn."  
"A what?"  
  
"A Muggleborn. You have not been brought up as a wizard or even in the knowledge of the wizarding world," The headmaster looked at me more seriously as he allowed this information to sink in. It was evident I had much more than spells to learn at Hogwarts.  
  
"Slytherin house," he continued, "generally does not have any pupils in it other than those of pure blood. Do you understand?" I nodded slowly.  
  
"But sir, why would I be placed in an unsuitable house? I'm a Mug- whatsit, like you said. Was the Sorting Hat wrong?" I was beginning to worry. What wasn't he telling me about my new classmates? The other pupils had seemed friendly enough to greet me, although many had asked who my parents were. Funny, really - I had simply shrugged and said that they had both died when I was young.  
  
"No, Tom. I am quite certain that Slytherin is most definitely not the wrong house for you. I knew even before you arrived that you would be placed there. Our Sorting Hat never lies.  
"You have obviously been brought up as a Muggle. I believe you have lived at the orphanage all you life, yes?"  
  
I nodded again.  
  
"Well, the fact is, and I can put it no plainer way than this, you are not a Muggle. Your father was... but your mother was a witch. A very powerful sorceress, indeed. I taught her here myself in fact."  
  
My mouth dropped open. If it hadn't been for my skin and sinew, I swear my entire lower jaw would've clattered to the floor.  
  
"She was a witch?" I stuttered. Dippet nodded. "And my father was a Muggle. So..." I trailed off and, mainly to myself added, "What does that make me?"  
  
It was bewildering. I had known nothing about my parents except that my mother had simply named me after my father (Tom) and my grandfather (Marvolo), and then died. Obviously I had thought about them. Lain awake at night for hours on end trying to imagine what they could've been like. Then, to discover something so incredibly important about my mother and her life... It was like a dream.  
  
"You, my dear boy, like many other students at the school, are half- blooded. But, right now, it is your mother's blood that is important.  
"Were you listening to the Sorting Hat's son before your Sorting? About the four founders of the school?"  
  
"Yes! Yes, of course I was!" I eagerly replied. The ragged and torn pointed hat's song had enthralled me, simply because it was basically a piece of clothing serenading an entire school hall in the first place!  
  
"As you may recall, the founder of Slytherin house was a Salazar Slytherin. He had only wanted those who were born into magical families to attend the school and this was one of the ways he selected his students.  
"Your mother was a descendant of his. A direct descendant, down through generations of proud purebloods. In fact she was his only remaining descendant... that is, until you were born."  
  
Dippet leaned forward across his desk and fixed me with an impenetrable gaze. All around us strange wire objects buzzed and spun, doing God-knows-what, whilst the portraits on the walls had fallen silent.  
  
"Tom, you, and you alone, are Slytherin's heir, and by now I am sure the rest of the house will know."  
  
"Me?" I whispered, shocked, "But it can't possibly be! This time last week I didn't even know magic was real! Wouldn't someone have told me already? Wouldn't someone have said something?"  
  
However Dippet simply shook his head solemnly.  
  
"Tom - you are the heir of Slytherin. 


	2. Second Year Pansy Parkinson

SECOND YEAR: PANSY PARKINSON  
  
Slytherin parties were always wild. It kinda went with the territory. People thought we were bad so we would simply try to live up to our titles as the 'evil scum of Hogwarts'.  
  
This one - for me at any rate - was different.  
  
My second year and Slytherin popularity was at an all time low (except for perhaps during the war against the Dark Lord). Salazar Slytherin's secret hidden chamber had been unlocked and the 'beast within' released in the school - whatever it was.  
  
Everyday we were greeted in the Great Hall and our classrooms by constant hexes and hurled insults. The Gryffindors were the worst. They were always so bloody righteous and so up themselves. The Ravenclaws, many of whom were good friends of mine, became weary and distant, and, even though they were too nice to say much, you could tell that the Hufflepuffs felt just as strongly as the Gryffindors.  
  
Dad had sounded thrilled when I'd told him about the supposed opening of the Chamber of Secrets. I'd told him through the fireplace and his eyes had lit up and he had spoken in an awestruck voice.  
  
"It's our Lord, baby," he'd said, "Our Lord is returning!"  
  
Of course no one believed that it was the Dark Lord. And, obviously, no one in Slytherin at that time knew who the heir was. We had asked around immediately and could think of nobody with the ability to open the hidden room.  
  
Despite all of the wonderful intrigue, anti-Slytherin-ity began to wear on us all.  
  
"Everything will be fine," Draco reassured me at breakfast one morning, "We've survived worse than this. Don't worry your pretty little head about it." He'd grinned and then continued eating his cornflakes and soya milk (he had a thing about dairy products) as though everything was normal.  
  
But it wasn't. How could it be? Even if Draco could cope with round the clock abuse, I couldn't. I didn't even give a damn about that Godforsaken chamber!  
  
So that was how I found myself, one wild and blustery night during Easter break, downing countless shots that burned my throat. I just wanted one night where I could be a normal teenage girl again.  
  
I'd been to the parties before. Right the way through from ickle firsties to those taken their NEWTs attended - age was of no consequence. A lot of the time, I'd have a couple of cocktails and leave it at that. I wasn't into the smoking, drugs or sex that was going on, and - trust me - they were all readily available to me in our common room. Oh, I got into those later on, but the night I'm telling you about I guess you could say was the beginning of my downward spiral.  
  
That night I drank and drank and drank. Firewhiskey that made smoke pour out my nostrils; sickly sweet cherry rum; absinthe and hot water from huge steaming cauldrons - I downed them all without a thought. Every now and then the room would lurch and spin like I was riding a crap old Comet Series Two, and the rest of the time it swam lovingly across my vision, swaying me as though on a rowing boat in gentle waters.  
  
My mind felt soft and squidgy and all of my worries just seemed to melt and dribble out the soles of my shoes.  
  
It was... fantastic. A perfect dizzy world.  
  
Around four in the morning, Nott decided it would be best to take me down to my bed and try and get me to sleep.  
  
"C'mon Parkinson, I'll carry you," he offered, chuckling, after I'd failed for the fifth time to get up from the sofa. Every time I tried to stand my legs sort of dissolved. I attempted to explain this to Millicent that it was impossible for me to stand or move as my legs had no bones in them. She'd simply glanced at Nott before they each grabbed me under the arms and hauled me up.  
  
"Okay! Alright!" I yelled, "I can manage myself!"  
  
And I did manage. That is until I reached the stairs. The staircase led down to the dormitories. We had only one dormitory corridor - girl's rooms on the left, guys on the right. It was so much simpler than separate wings for the genders as the other houses had. I expect those rules would've gotten broken too often in our Slytherin dungeons. We weren't promiscuous, more curious.  
  
Anyway - I got to the steps. For a few moments I stood, swaying slightly, both my hands on the banister. Then... I dunno what happened... I just seemed to teeter at the edge before falling gracefully forwards like I was skydiving.  
  
My head hit the stone steps and I bounced like a coconut down, down, down. Thump, thump, thump, CRASH!  
  
I plunged down the staircase in my intoxicated daze, barely registering the pain I must've felt as my head and arms got pretty cut up and bruised. As the foot of the stairs I simply barrelled head first into the opposite wall.  
  
The corridor around me flickered before me like there was a faulty connection somewhere inside my brain. I gasped in one ragged breath as my eyes rolled back into my head.  
  
Everything went black. 


End file.
